


stay with me

by mysomeday



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3445397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysomeday/pseuds/mysomeday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God, her head ached. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't move. She tried to move, to shift to a better position, but her body wouldn't listen. Why wouldn't her body listen? She tried to call out, but her voice was trapped in her throat. She wanted to scream, to yell, to do something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so Team Delusional all the way, am I right? I'm writing this with the sole purpose of writing one specific scene, but I like to make things hard for myself and it's gonna be a bit longer than I intended. This is only my second fic on this site, so please be kind, but definitely comment and let me know what you like and what you don't. I wanna learn! Without further ado, here's "stay with me" -- Bethyl and Team Delusional up the whazoo.

_She felt so warm and just safe. She couldn’t remember feeling this safe. Or could she? Her head was in such a jumble, nothing was making much sense. God, her head ached. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t move. Her pillow was too hard. Much too hard. And it was shaking strangely. She tried to move, to shift to a better position, but her body wouldn’t listen. Why wouldn’t her body listen? She tried to call out, but her voice was trapped in her throat. She wanted to scream, to yell, to do **something**._

_Her pillow was trembling. It shifted, moving on its own and then it was gone, replaced by a chest. Was it always a chest?  She didn’t know anymore. But it was warm and smelled like a forest. It felt right; it felt like home. Her head was swimming, trying to find out who it was. She couldn’t remember. Before she could figure it out, it was gone, replaced by the musty leather coolness of a car’s backseat. She felt thin lips press to her forehead, light but lingering. And then she was alone and the blackness rushed her into unconsciousness._

_###_

The next time she woke up, all she saw was a bright white light. Her whole body tightened, drawing into itself, hands lifting up to her eyes. She felt tears sliding down her face and squeezed her eyes shut.

“I thought you didn’ cry no more,” a rough voice muttered next to her. Her eyes flew open as her head snapped in his direction.

She ignored the resounding crack and stared at him, pinning him to the chair in which he sat. He was just there, staring at her from behind a curtain of long, unwashed hair, eyes full of pain. His hands were laid uneasily in his lap. She looked at him, drank him in. She didn’t know his name, but he was important to her. She just knew it. And she knew she didn’t cry.

She shook her head, opening her mouth to reply. But no sound came out. Where was her voice? It seemed to still be stuck in her throat. She looked at the man in the chair, wanting to ask what happened and what was going on.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in what must have been a smile. “Give it a while, okay? Doc said there’d be complications.” He got to his feet and leaned over her as she lay in the bed. His hand passed over her eyes, pushing her to close them in response. She felt his breath on her ear as he murmured, “Sleep, Beth. Go to sleep.”

Like he’d cast a spell on her, her thoughts drifted away, stolen over by sleep. When she woke up next, he was gone.

###

A tall man walked into her room, but he was not the man from before. He wore a white coat and glasses. A doctor, she mused silently.

“Hello,” the doctor greeted pleasantly. “I’m Doctor Edwards.” He picked up her chart from next to her bed and gave it a quick once-over. Turning back to her, he examined her head wound. “Okay, it all seems good so far, no infection or anything. So you can be happy about that,” he smiled at the girl, but she did not respond. His grin faltered for a moment before he reinforced it. “Do you remember your name?”

She felt a strange sense of déjà vu as she laid there, this man gazing at her. He wanted to know her name, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Her eyes screwed up with concentration, but then she remembered the man from last night.

Beth. Her name was Beth.

She nodded furiously, but still the words got stuck in her throat. The doctor looked at her expectantly, but she just stared up at him and shook her head helplessly, gesturing to her throat.

Edwards did not look surprised as he reached for a glass of water placed on the bedside table. He handed it to her wordlessly and she gulped it down quickly, eager to be able to speak.

Her throat finally felt loose and she felt the hope rise in her chest as she open her mouth. But as she tried to say her name, a string of nonsense fell out instead.

###

The doctor called it some fancy, complicated name, but she couldn’t understand. All she knew was that she couldn’t talk and maybe never would again.

He said she just had to practice. He told her to repeat syllables until they made sense. He told her to sing. She scoffed at that. She hadn’t been here long, but she knew this was no place to be singing. No one would tell her where she had come from or how she’d been injured. It was as though she had been in the hospital her whole life. And she might as well have, since it was all she could remember.

No, that wasn’t true. She could remember that man. And she remembered him with a group of people in the hallway at the hospital. She had no idea who any of them were, but she remembered being cradled in someone’s arms. She hoped it was him. She remembered the feeling she got when she saw him standing there, his eyes focused solely on her and his hand hovering near his weapon. Her stomach flip-flopped and all she thought was “He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. He came for me.”

She studied her hands intently, thinking that if she focused on something tangible, her memory would come back to her. Hands. She pictured herself intertwining her fingers with someone. She was standing in front of a grave, the man standing next to her. She watched him yank a handful of flowers (weeds really) from the ground and place them gently on the tombstone. She wound her hand around his, feeling him squeeze back softly. She didn’t know why she was sad, but having him next to her made her chest feel warm and tight.

She closed her eyes, flashing forward to another image. She was on the man’s back as he gripped her legs. Her face flushed. She’d figured there was something there—she’d felt too strongly for them to be just friends, but had never expected his. She remembered the smell of smoke, trees, and sweat. “There are still good people, Daryl.” Her mind came to a full stop. Smoke, trees, sweat. Daryl. The chest she laid in in her first memory.  His name was Daryl.

All of a sudden, she wasn’t alone. She looked up from her hands to see him standing there, staring down at her.

“Daryl,” she tried to say, though it came out sounding like gibberish. He seemed to understand her fine though and smiled weakly at her, one corner of his mouth pulling higher than the other.

“Yeah, it’s me.” She reached out for him, needing to feel him, to know he was really there. He glanced down at her reaching hands with a bittersweet look on his face. “I can’t stay long, Beth. I just wanted to make sure you’re awake.”

She glared at him, wanted to tell him he couldn’t just leave after she just found him. She wanted to tell him he couldn’t leave her until she remembered everything. She _needed_ him. But she just babbled on, tears springing up in her eyes even as she furiously rubbed them away. She gripped her blankets tightly, yanking them away from her body and making to stand up and force him to stay. But her legs wouldn’t move.

She stared down at them, bare beneath her blue hospital gown. How many pieces of her had been broken? She couldn’t talk; she couldn’t walk. Was there anything she _could_ do?

As if he could read her thoughts, he grunted a reply, “They’re not _broken_. You just need to work ‘em is all. It’s all muscle memory, so relax.” She still glared at him, but seemed to realize that he was right.

And so she worked them as hard as she could. Some days were harder than others, some days she cried on the floor, unable to get up or call for help. But she was wary of the people at Grady anyways. Edwards had explained their system and it seemed fair, but he wouldn’t tell her how she was injured. Most of the wards, as they called them, stayed away from her as if ordered to. No one ever left, except for the police officers who often patrolled the hallways. Something seemed off.

One of the wards, an older man with a sweet tooth, seemed to like her and would sometimes take longer than he needed to tidy up her room. He brought her a pair of scrubs and shoes so she could work on her walking. She practiced her speaking with him as much as she could, in an undertone so no one would be able to hear. It was through him that she finally heard the truth about what happened to her. He described the people, her family, who came to get her, but she couldn’t remember more than a few hazy images about them. As he told the story, she remembered more and more about it. And she realized that something was missing. Someone should have been there who wasn’t. But as much as she strove and pushed herself to recall it, it was no use. She remembered Noah, helped along the way with recollections from the older ward. She remembered Dawn and Gorman. But most importantly of all, she remembered a way out.

###

Peeking around the corner, Beth slowly made her way down the hallway, pushing the heavy cart in front of herself. There weren’t any wards or cops around. Daryl walked behind her, keeping an eye out for people who would force her back to her room. She had worked for a month, regaining the strength in her limbs.

She fingered the key she held concealed in her pocket. It had been nerve-wracking for her, sneaking into that office. Not only had it released a few unpleasant memories of her previous stay at the hospital, but she was worried her legs would just give out on her, leaving her to be found and punished in who knows what ways.

She walked as quickly as she could to the elevator, feeling the nerves in shivers up and down her spine.  She looked behind herself, expecting to see Daryl, but he was gone. She was alone. Her breathing started to quicken, but she closed her eyes, huffed out a breath, and kept moving. She made it to the elevator and opened it, staring down at the shaft.

She knew she didn’t have much time before someone came looking for her, so she sprang into action. She took the heavy (but useless) machine off the cart, placing it on the ground a safe distance from the elevator doors and knotted the length of sheets around it tightly. The other end she tied around her waist.

She had done this before. She remembered doing it. But she’d had Noah then, not some piece of equipment which might not weigh enough to support her. But that didn’t matter now. She was getting out.

Beth made her way slowly down the shaft, imagining she was repelling down a fake cliff at a gym somewhere. She tried to ignore the smell of decomposing bodies, replacing it with the still unpleasant, but less revolting scent of sweaty gym socks and armpits. She’d almost managed to fool herself until she reached the floor and found herself looking down at a pile of chewed corpses. She untied the sheet from her waist and looked up at the open elevator doors.

Daryl sat there, swinging his legs as she remembered doing once. She wanted to yell at him, tell him to hurry up and get down here, but he beat her to it.

“There’s a gun about 2 feet to your left.”

Startled, she glanced at the floor, looking for the gun in the shadows. When she saw it, she remembered it falling down here shortly before a crooked cop followed it against his will. She smiled bitterly, picking it up and showing it to Daryl.

“Good girl. Now get going. You’ll wanna find a car before it gets dark and the walkers swarm you.” She looked up at him, confused. She waved her hand in his direction, gesturing from him to herself. She wasn’t going to leave without him. “You have to. There’s no point.”

Again he had seemed to read her mind without her saying anything. It was almost freaky. It would’ve been, if it wasn’t so sweet. But she paused. He couldn’t really mean there was no point if it meant they’d be together again. She stared up at him, realization dawning in her eyes.

“Knew you’d get it eventually, girl.” He chuckled darkly.

Her stomach dropped with what she thought must have been an audible thud. He wasn’t there. He’d never been there. It was all in her head. Just another thing wrong with her.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with you. You got banged up good, but you’re getting better. Now quit stalling and get out there while you can.” Who knew a dirty redneck could be so encouraging? With one last look at him up there, framed by the light, she carefully picked her way out of the shaft and made her way out.

The sun would be setting soon, she knew, so she had to act fast. The cops at Grady would have taken all the gas they could from any surrounding cars, so she knew the only transportation she would get would be in one of those. The only problem was that she didn’t know where they kept their cars when they were running over people and bringing them back for slave labor.

She ran through the streets, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. She spotted a car in the middle of the road and couldn’t believe her luck. She dashed over to it and tried to start it. Empty. Of course. She rummaged around the backseat, trying to find something useful, but it had already been cleared out. She was about to continue her search when she heard the quiet roar of an engine coming closer.  She climbed back into the backseat and curled up as small as she could on the floor. Once the car had passed her by, she slowly stuck her head closer to the window and peered out. It was a police cruiser. Gripping her gun tightly, she waited a few seconds before opening the door.

The car turned a corner and Beth ran after it as quickly as possible, afraid to let it get too far ahead of her. It had idled once it turned and she pressed herself against the side of the building, holding her breath and praying not to be seen.

“Stupid biter,” she heard a low voice mutter before a squelching sound reached her ears, followed by a muted thump. She heard keys jingle as the cop rummaged through the corpse’s pockets, apparently coming up with nothing.

The man walked back to the cruiser, shaking his head at his partner. “Looked like a rich one. Thought I might find some more of those cigars I like. What a waste,” he spat, looking out the window at the body lying on the ground.

The car continued on and Beth kept herself at a safe distance. The officers seemed to be in no hurry to return to Grady and always stopped when they saw a single walker, especially if it looked like it’d been rich before the turn.

After a good twenty minutes spent following the pair, Beth’s legs were starting to cramp. She needed to find a car and soon. It was steadily getting darker and she could practically hear the walkers coming out of the woodwork. The gun shook in her hands before she tightened her grip and shook herself, trying to focus. Finally the cops led her to what must have once been overflow parking for the nearby strip mall. There was a decent-sized lineup of cars parked near the entryway. Beth felt herself inflating with anger. They were a five minute walk from the hospital and these idiots had led her on a half-hour long trek the complete opposite way.

She tamped her anger down as the two got out of the car, talking quietly and laughing at some joke. She hid herself behind a cement pole nearby and watched carefully as they tucked the key away in one of their boots. So much for her plan to take the key from wherever they hid it and make her escape. She waited for their conversation to fade and a couple of minutes extra to make sure they didn’t hear anything before she strode over to one of the vehicles.

Looking around quickly, she tucked the gun into the waistband of her scrubs, making sure the safety was on first. The door was unlocked, so she let herself in, situating herself behind the wheel and firmly shutting the door. She felt under the seat, in the glove box, and under the visor for a spare key but came up with nothing. She sighed, leaning her head back against the seat with a thump. She turned her head to her right to look out the window and found herself staring into Daryl’s eyes.

Beth’s heart thudded in her chest for a moment as she found herself falling into her gaze. She grinned, reaching out to take his hand before she remembered that she couldn’t do that.

“I knew you could do it,” he told her proudly.  “But you’re kinda stuck if you can’t get this car to work.” He glanced around in the back and informed her, “There’s water and food in here though, so that’s good. We just need to get it to move.”

She looked at him with as much sass as she could muster. How am I supposed to make it work without the key? she thought. She could’ve sworn she saw his eyes twinkle as he replied to her unspoken question.

“You’ll have to hotwire it.”

###

With Daryl’s “gentle guidance,” she managed to start the car, but then she was faced with another problem. She had no idea where the real Daryl was or how to get to wherever he was. Hallucination Daryl was gone too so she was on her own. She had food, water, and shelter, so she knew the best thing to do now was to get as far away from Grady as possible. But she was afraid of going in the wrong direction.

She rummaged around for a map, but came up with nothing. She needed to make a decision, but before she could, she heard the unmistakable sound of people approaching.

She shot into the backseat faster than she’d ever thought possible, especially since her legs hardly worked. She shoved herself against the floor, praying as hard as she could that they would pick another car and leave quickly. Unfortunately, these people seemed to be here not for a drive, but to do a nightly check of the vehicles. The sun was about to set and they probably wanted to make sure they were all accounted for in case of an emergency.

Beth stayed as low as she could, waiting for them to find her. She held her breath as they passed her by, sure that she was going to get caught. But they kept walking, talking softly as they checked that all the cars were present and accounted for. Once they’d left, she immediately climbed back into the driver’s seat and started the car. She peeled out of the parking lot, making her way as far away from Grady as she could. She avoided the main roads (less chance of being seen) and tried to steer her way through the crowds of walkers roaming the streets.

But none of that mattered. She was out and she was going to find Daryl. She picked her roads at random and followed her gut. She knew she’d find him one way or another.

###

She drove for as far as she could with the remaining gas. She knew how to siphon gas from other cars (another one of Daryl’s lessons), but there were no other cars. The roads were mainly empty and any cars that remained had already been drained dry. She’d made it pretty far on the one tank of gas, but had to walk the rest of the way, wherever it was she was going to.

She collected all of the supplies from the Grady car that she could and set off on foot. She didn’t know if she was going in the right direction, but she was making progress and it was better than being stuck in Grady.

Beth kept telling herself that to keep her hopes up, but it eventually became too hard. Her legs weren’t used to being pushed as hard as she was working them and her head swam with the effort of staying awake for hours on end. With no guard, she didn’t dare sleep for more than an hour at a time in the open.

One day, she’d hidden herself carefully in a bush and was sleeping in, a rare luxury. Only Daryl wouldn’t let her, too afraid that she’d be caught unawares.

“Beth,” he hissed to her. “Come on. You hafta keep moving. You know that.” She knew that; knew if she rested for too long, her legs would seize up and she’d be stuck. But she waved him off sleepily, clinging as tightly as she could to her dream world. She felt a boot kick firmly at the underside of her foot. That didn’t make sense. Daryl never touched her. Couldn’t touch her. Unless it wasn’t Daryl touching her. Her eyes shot open, expecting to find a Grady cop reaching for his handcuffs. Instead, she saw a man pulling a mask off his face, his eyes darting from her to their surroundings.  

###

What seemed like a lifetime later, she was in the woods with this man named Morgan. She had seen the map he carried like a lifeline and when she saw the name Rick she was sucked back into her memories again. She saw a man hardened by this new life, smiling and laughing with a baby in his arms. This memory man turned towards her and she took the baby from his arms. She nuzzled the little girl, breathing in her sweet smell, shocked when a hat was dropped over her head. “There’s a new sheriff in town,” the man—No, Rick—crowed.

She had pointed to the map again and again, jabbing her finger at his name—Rick Grimes—and back at herself.

“Girl, I know you aren’t Rick Grimes,” Morgan, as he told her to call him, hissed. “What are you on about?”

She’d never taken sign language, as far as she knew at least, and had no idea how to mime. All she knew was that she needed that map. She tried to take it from him, but his fingers clung all the more tightly.

“No, girl, I need this map. I’m sure we can scrounge one up for you somewhere, but I need this one. I need to find Rick.”

She blinked slowly. She pointed to him, then herself, the map, and finally the road. He tilted his head, looking at her carefully. “You wanna go with me? You even know where I’m going?” She pointed insistently at Rick’s name scrawled on the map. His eyes widened. Finally, she thought. Finally, he gets it. “You know Rick. You were in his group. What happened to you?”

Beth reached up, pulling her hair away from the bandage still wrapped around her bullet wound. Morgan’s hand reached tentatively out for it for a moment before snapping back to his side. “Good lord,” he whispered. “In the head?” She nodded. “Well, I won’t interfere in God’s plan, whatever it is” he chuckled. “Alright then, you’re coming with me and we’ll get you back to your group.”

She had grinned and wanted to whoop out loud and thank him, but when she tried, the only intelligible word was “tree.” He’d laughed and said that was alright, he didn’t want someone chattering his ear off anyway.

Traveling with Morgan was difficult. He needed to clear, as he called it, and since he had allowed her to tag along, required her to help. Still recovering from her wound, her reaction times were slightly slowed and she had some close calls, but it improved over time. She tried to practice her speech with him, but that hardly changed. She could say actual words sometimes now, but they were never the right ones and they never made up a full sentence.  

But they kept moving and she kept trying to get her voice back. At night, Daryl tried to help her, coached her into saying his name. She knew he wasn’t there, not really, but the idea that at the end of this journey, she would see him (and she _would_ see him) made her want to be able to at least say his name when she was back with him. The closer they got to DC, the harder she worked.

“Beth,” his voice softly called one day. She felt the ghost of fingers stroking her cheek, running lightly over her scars. She fidgeted, raising her hand to swat him away, her fingers meeting nothing but air. “You need to get up now, girl.” She felt him pulling away and her eyes snapped open, staring into the branches high above. She sighed, digging the heel of her palm into her eye. Not a bad way to wake up, but she wished he could’ve stayed longer. These days her hallucinations were getting shorter. She supposed that must be a good thing, a sign that she was returning to her right mind. But she missed him so much when he was gone.

Groaning lightly, she climbed to her feet. She cast a quick glance around the camp, but she knew he was gone. Morgan walked back to the camp, wiping his bloody knife on his pants and picking up a can of beans from where it lay nestled in the dying embers of the fire, the low heat keeping it warm.

“Two of ‘em,” he answered her unspoken question. “Surprised you didn’t hear them. You were out like a log.”

Beth smiled a little uncertainly. She didn’t know Morgan all that well, didn’t understand his jokes. She was the lightest sleeper she knew. She chalked it all up to her trouble talking. It had improved over their weeks together and they had reached some level of communication, but it was far from perfect. She bent down to grab her water bottle, taking a quick sip before taking the can from him. They ate quickly, eager to get back to the road. Signs were popping up all over, advertising the number of miles to D.C. in ever decreasing numbers. They knew they were getting close.

###

Morgan and Beth walked in companionable silence, each carefully watching their surroundings. Neither of them wanted to be surprised, even after they were both rested and fed. A twig snapped under a foot a couple of feet behind them and they whirled around without a word, weapons raised against their foe.

But it was not a walker as they’d assumed. It was a man walking out of the cover of trees, arms raised innocently. “Hello,” he grinned. “I’m Aaron.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter to go. I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I love writing it. I still have hope for Beth and will be keeping the faith! So without further ado, here's chapter 2.

###

                Every day was pretty much the same. He took watch all night long, barely allowing himself any sleep. He knew if he ever did, he would dream of her and that was not something he was willing to risk.

                _Beth._

                If he closed his eyes, she was all that he could see. At first, he saw the car they had locked her in, her body hidden from view behind the tinted glass. But the door always swung open and there she was, just lying there, eyes closed and chest lying still, not rising and falling with her breath. She’d be sprawled out, fingertips skimming the musty fabric of the car floor. It wasn’t right to leave her there. She deserved a big funeral, a fancy casket, something. _Anything_. But what did she have? What was he able to give her? A dirty old backseat for a coffin. No flowers, no eulogy, no _nothing_.

                When he had first laid her down there, he didn’t move. He couldn’t. His limbs felt heavy and iced over. All around him, their family screamed and walkers growled, but he didn’t move away. He stood there, looking down at the marred skin of her face, wishing with all of his might that he could have been there. Could’ve protected her.

                He could hear his family shouting his name over and over, but he took no notice of them. He leaned in and brushed his lips against her forehead. He pressed a little harder, trying to commit this to memory. The first, last, and only time Daryl Dixon would kiss Beth Greene. When Rick took his arm and pulled him away, he barely reacted. His legs moved but he wasn’t in control. He ran, but he was still. He still felt himself back with her, leaning over to place her in the backseat, hovering over her, trying to memorize her features as best he could.

                _My fault, my fault, my fault ._

                His footsteps pounded on the pavement, much faster than the slow trudging of his heart, still back there with her. He doubted it would ever catch up. If he even wanted it to. So he tried to do what she would have wanted. He tried to put it away.

###

                It didn’t work.

                As the group wandered the empty highway, he just felt it building up. Pain, regret, sadness, loss. It all bubbled up in his chest, overcoming him. Even when the rain came pouring down, it wasn’t enough to cleanse him off the pain he felt.

                Everything reminded him of her. He could glance at Maggie and be overwhelmed by memories of the way she walked, the light of her eyes. He could scan the trees surrounding the group and remember running wild with her, the flames and smoke pouring out into the forest behind them. Everything was a sign of her. It was like the universe was determined to punish him for letting her slip through his fingers. He could’ve had her; he could’ve saved her. He failed.

                It all just kept rattling around inside his head. Things he could’ve done, what he should’ve done. What little things would have changed the whole thing? For weeks, he replayed that day. But he couldn’t think about her actually—he couldn’t even think the word. Gone. She was gone. And if there was one thing he would never do, it’s think about that bullet flying towards her.  What happened after was easy, but he couldn’t bring himself to relive that exact moment.

                He tried to think of the happy times, back on the road with her or at the funeral home, but it always went back to every time she was ripped away from him. If he could have any wish in the world, he’d ask for her. No hesitation. He wanted her back. He needed her.

                _Beth_.

###

                The first time he saw her, he fell to his knees.

                She stood a few feet away, turned away from him. As he watched, unable to tear his eyes away, she turned, a soft smile on her face.

                He had been doing a perimeter check for the group’s camp. No one else much saw the point. They had no food, no water, nothing to tempt anyone into attacking them. Every night, everyone but him fell to the group in a great big heap, falling almost instantly asleep. No one offered to take watch; no one said anything to him. That was perfectly alright to him. He stayed up every night, wandering their campsite, looking for trouble.

                That did mean, however, that he was horribly sleep-deprived. His eyes had been swimming all day. The second he stopped his endless loop around the group to rub his tired eyes, he saw her.

                He couldn’t help himself; he collapsed, staring up at her. “No, no, no,” he mumbled, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “You can’t be here. You can’t be.”

                But she walked towards him, still smiling that sweet grin. Scars still marked her cheek and forehead, angry black stitches binding her wounds together. She was still too skinny, too lean. He’d tried to fatten her up on the road, but she refused to take a bigger share and there wasn’t that much to go around. He could still remember arguing with her about that.

                He wanted to smile at that memory, his lips twitching briefly. But then he saw it. The mark that took her from him. There on her forehead was a small wound, the bandage he’d wrapped around it gone.

                He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking from silent sobs.  Why was she punishing him like this? She couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be. So why was she haunting him? He felt enough guilt without having to look at her face, reliving all the pain of that day.

                He peeked through his fingers, seeing her boots in front of him as she settled herself on her knees in front of him. He scrubbed his face with his faces, removing all traces of his tears. But his eyes still burned and his mouth felt dry. He slowly dragged his eyes up to her face, dreading the accusing stare he was sure would be there.             

                It wasn’t.  She looked a little sad as she gazed at him, nibbling a bit at her lower lip.

                “B-Beth,” he forced out, raising a hand to touch her cheek. “How…” But she was moving away now and gesturing for him to get up.

                His knees creaked as he stood, wondering what was going on. She stood in front of him, still smiling that strange, sad smile as her fingers ghosted over his face. He closed his eyes, pretended he could really feel them. Pretended they were really there. Her voice sounded softly, a familiar melody. He let it flow over him, let it calm him down and dull his senses.

                _So we will drink beer all day._

_And our guards will give way._

_And we’ll be good._

When he finally opened his eyes, she was gone.

                He blamed it on dehydration. A mirage or something. Wouldn’t happen again, no way. That thought made his heart twinge in his chest, but he ignored it. She was gone. Forever. He needed to get that through his thick skull.

###

                The second time he saw her, he was sitting on the porch in Alexandria. His legs drawn up in front of him, they almost blocked his view of her before he heard her giggle.

                That familiar sound had him scrambling up, reaching for his crossbow before he knew it was happening.

                “You really stink, you know that, Mr. Dixon? I mean that literally, by the way.”

                His arms fell limply to his sides, the crossbow brushing against the wood of the porch. “Why is this happening to me?” he muttered to himself. He almost wished he could blame it on being drunk, but he hadn’t had a lick of alcohol since _her_.

                She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re not going to pretend you don’t see me, are you? ‘Cause that’d be pretty stupid, you know.”

                “Just because I see you don’t mean I have to talk to you,” he spat. “Why don’t you leave me be, girl? Don’t need some ghost of you walking about, making me think I’m losing it.”

                Her hands fell to her hips as she leaned forward. “Because, believe it or not Daryl, you need me and you know it. So why don’t you stop wallowing and man up, for god’s sake?”

                “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sneered, getting in her face.

                “Oh, don’t I? I know you better than you think, Daryl Dixon.” Her face softened, “I know… what happened messed you up. I get it. But you gotta keep trying. You gotta keep going.”

                He deflated, sinking back into himself. “What—what if I can’t?” He tried to act like he didn’t care what her answer was. He turned his back on her and returning to his seat against the railing. She followed him, crouching in front of him. Considering how close she was to him, he shivered when he realized how warm her breath felt on his face. A look of pain crossed his face and his brow furrowed as he glared at the ground next to them.

                “You gotta put it away,” she whispered, her hands reaching up to cup his face, but stopping a hairsbreadth away. “You gotta be strong for me, okay? I need you to have faith. I need you to remember.”

                He didn’t get what was so important about him having faith. In what? God? People? The only thing he’d ever believed in was her and look where that got him. Where that got her.

                He would’ve said something, but she didn’t give him the chance.

                “Go take a shower, Daryl. I’ll see you soon.”

###

                As he plopped himself down against the tree, his eyes closed for a moment. His hunt wasn’t going so well. There wasn’t a lot of game in the woods around Alexandria, so he found himself having to go further and further out.

                If he was being completely honest though, he didn’t go out there just to hunt. He went to think, away from the suffocating presence of his family and the strangers of Alexandria.

                But the real reason he went was _her_.

                The bark scratched his back uncomfortably, but he couldn’t have cared less as he opened his eyes and saw her sitting back against the tree with him.

                “Hey,” she greeted brightly. “Catch anything good yet?”

                He stared at her for a moment, always caught off guard when she spoke. He shrugged one shoulder, then tipped his head back against the tree, exhaling softly. Whenever she appeared to him, he just felt so much more at peace. Like everything was right with the world. It was stupid. It probably meant he was insane. But those little moments with her were all he would ever get and no one could take that away from him.

                “You okay?” she asked. His mind flashed back to the first time he’d heard her say that, but he shook his head quickly. He tried to keep his memories at bay whenever he was with her, focused on her right then, not what had already happened. “You seem quieter than usual.” She giggled. “And that’s saying something!”

                He smirked, bringing his thumb up to his mouth. “Aaron asked me to go with him. Be a recruiter.” He shot a glance over at her, but she didn’t seem surprised. She looked proud. But what did he know about that?

                “Yeah? That’s pretty cool, huh? You gonna do it?” She tried to sound nonchalant, but her smile grew with each word until she was full out grinning.

                He bit down on his thumb as he mulled through his thoughts. She didn’t push him, but waited for him to work it out on his own. “If I did,” he began, but he stopped, the tips of his ears turning red. “If I did go with him, would I still get to see you? Would you still come see me?”

                She was quiet, a thoughtful look on her face. She’d appeared to him less and less as time went by. He figured if he was away from people more, she might show up more often. He still needed her.

                Beth smiled, “I’ll try, okay? No promises. But, for what it’s worth,” she shrugged, “I think you oughta go. It’d be good for you.”

                Well that cinched it. If she wanted him there, that’s what he would do. He looked out over the forest, resolving himself. He looked back to her to tell her he’d do it, but she was gone again.

                He knew he’d see her soon, so he grabbed his crossbow and headed back to tell Aaron the good news.

###

                It’d been weeks and he never saw hide or hair of her. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t care. When that didn’t work, he told himself it was a good thing. It meant he wasn’t going nuts. It meant he was getting better. But he didn’t believe that either.

                He was in an awful mood and he knew it. How Aaron managed to put up with him, he’d never know. The man seemed to have infinite reserves of patience. Sometimes he reminded Daryl of her, but it was never quite the same. Aaron was a good friend, a good man, but he was nothing like her. Nothing could ever compare to her.

                He heard his friend walking back to camp and lifted his head in greeting. “There’s just two of them,” Aaron said as he brushed his hand over his forehead to wipe away some of the sweat pooling there. “They seem good, but I’ll have to be careful.”

                “You? What’re you talking about, man? I’m going with you,” Daryl said with growing confusion. “We don’t split up, remember? You’re the one who told me that.”

                Aaron grinned, “That was because you kept wandering off to chase a squirrel. It’s just two people. An older guy and a young girl. I think I can handle it on my own.” He winked, “Besides, Eric told me to make sure you were back in time for Judy’s party. You’re supposed to be helping out with setting everything.”

                Daryl just looked at him. “I think they can handle it without me. These people could be crazy. You can’t just go by yourself.”           

                “Daryl, I’ve got this. We’ve been tracking them for days. They’re good. _I’m_ good. If you leave now, you might even have time to grab a moose or something; make a good birthday dinner for Judith.”

                Daryl snorted. It was impossible to argue with Aaron when he had his mind set on something. He didn’t get how Eric put up with it most of the time.

                Aaron nudged his shoulder, “There’s just two of ‘em. I think I can handle it. So get going. I’ll only be like an hour behind you anyway.”

                Daryl didn’t really want to go. He didn’t think he should. And if it was only an hour’s difference, it didn’t matter if he stayed anyway. So he told Aaron that. He wasn’t the only one who could be a stubborn pain.

                They finally agreed that Daryl would stay by the cars like usual and Aaron would try to hurry the process along. Neither of them wanted to risk Eric’s bad side if they were late.

###

                Daryl waited at the campsite, his bow strung across his back, and wondered what was taking so long. Aaron must’ve been chatting up the new people. Typical.

                He dug in his pocket, fishing out a cigarette. As he lit it, he tried not to think about Beth. It wasn’t working. He had finally felt like he was getting better when she was there with him. He didn’t feel so alone. She was the one who got him to really try. He tried to give Alexandria a chance, to give people a chance, because that was what she wanted. But now she hadn’t appeared to him and weeks and he wondered if something was wrong.

                _Stupid._

                If he wasn’t hallucinating her, that was a good thing, wasn’t it? It meant he was getting better, right? Lord, his head was killing him. He ground the heel of his hand into his eye. A part of him hoped that when he looked up, he’d see her standing next to him. She wasn’t there, but he heard the sound of feet trampling through the growth on the forest floor. Two sets of feet clomping around, one almost silently. If he hadn’t been paying close attention, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. The old man must’ve been a real woodsman. A survivor.

                He dropped his cig on the ground and stubbed it out with his toe. It’d be nice to have someone else to go out hunting. He worried that his family wasn’t getting enough meat now that he had to go and recruit strangers. Maybe this guy could help.

                He shook his head. His brain was all over the place today. He walked around the camp, making sure they’d packed everything up right, and waited for the group to make their way back.

                “Daryl,” Aaron’s voice called ahead, “I got two new faces here with me. You ready to go?”

 

               


End file.
